Here Falls the Shadow
by nechoco kitty
Summary: Somewhere between high school and the "real world" falls... something. Sam isn't quite sure what it is, or if she even wants to find out. A narrative told in verse.
1. in this valley of dying stars

**[ i. in this valley of dying stars ]**

.

I'm cold and tired  
One day,  
I think,  
I'll close my eyes and never-ever  
Open them again.  
( I wish that day were today. )

I'm sleepless in Seattle,  
I can find no comfort in the nest  
Of my bedroom  
But I can't live with Carly.  
She'll start asking  
Questions  
One day  
And I have no answers.

Home is with her and Spencer---  
---On her couch, in her kitchen  
Eating the food out of the refrigerator  
Like I belong there  
( I do ).

My mother's house  
Is more like a cave,  
I think,  
With sky lights.  
It is where dark meets light, and  
Clutter violates Clean's personal space  
Like the freaky kid  
In Kindergarten who was  
Only too eager to give you  
A hug and a kiss.

Until I punched him in the face.

I don't think he bothered  
Me after that.

The glow-in-the-dark stars ( on my ceiling )  
Are fading.  
They're not so bright now and some of  
The sticky stuff is going away.  
Some fell last month  
And there's more to come, probably.  
Carly would say that it's a sign  
We're gonna grow up some day.  
( Soon ).  
I just remember her helping  
Me stick them up there.  
At least the outline stays.

Tomorrow's Monday.  
Maybe if I don't sleep,  
The night won't end so fast.

.

.

**A/N:** ... So, it seems that I've begun another project. **[looks away]** I'll _try_ to add a few chapters to this, as I've always wanted to write a narrative of sorts in verse.

Also, blame Snow Patrol and T.S. Eliot. **Dx**


	2. my bed, a grave

**[ ii. my bed, a grave ]**

.

Morning comes too soon.  
Can someone turn the sun off?  
I should get curtains.

I bet my mom is  
Regretting this house.  
She likes to sleep  
More than I do, after all.

She sleeps when I  
Leave for school and  
She's still---  
---Or is it  
Back?---in bed  
When I come "home."  
Maybe she's depressed  
Or something.

But it's not like she has  
Anything to be depressed  
About, though.  
It's not like she has  
To go to work or anything  
Like that.

If anything, _I_ should be the  
Depressed one here.  
I gotta go to school  
Each and every damn  
Day.

I can't sleep in whenever  
I want to  
'Cause then Carly  
Gets mad at me.  
She says I'll go to school  
Even if she has to drag me there  
By the hair.

I don't think that she'd  
Really go through with it.  
( But just in case  
I'd rather not risk it. )

.

.

**A/N:** I didn't plan on this update. Also? The first verse was being pissy and refusing to be written. After that, though, the baby wrote itself. And since it wrote itself, it also ends itself. I know I should probably make each one longer, but if I feel that the piece has ended, then I'm not going to push it. It's also going a whole lot slower than I thought it would at first, so I'm sorry if the pacing seems weird. (and don't expect daily updates; I don't do that)

Inspired by Explosions in the Sky.


	3. tedium and tagalongs

**[ iii. tedium and tag-alongs ]**

Mondays are tedious affairs---  
---Punctuated with punches,  
Highlighted with sarcasm---  
Ending, ultimately, with  
iCarly brainstorming  
At the Shays.

Today should be no different

Or so I though, but  
Freddork's little Freshman---  
---"Sophomore"---_  
Whatever_, girlfriend keeps on  
Tagging along as if she belongs

But she doesn't  
And it shows

So goddamn badly  
That I just want to grab  
Her little twig shoulders and  
Shakeshake_shake_ until her  
Little twig neck snaps or she  
Realizes that being Fredwina's  
Stupid little girlfriend  
Does **NOT **make her  
"One of us"

She will _**never**_ be  
"One of us"

...

Carly says that I'm being unfair  
Says that I should give that  
Little usurper a fighting chance  
(That she sure as hell doesn't deserve)

Whereas I say  
Carly likes her about as  
Much as I do  
(As in not at all)

To which she answers  
"Better her than me!"

A part of me feels  
Bad for Freddie.

The rest of me just kind of  
Laughs with Carly

.

**A/N:** Wow! Talk about not updating in a while, though, I suppose, not nearly as long as with my other works. I thought I had the vaguest ideas of where this might be headed, but I figured, "What the heck!" and so now it'll flow wherever the hell the words want it to head towards.

I just thought I'd remind whoever's reading this that this is probably going to continue being pairing-less. Nothing against pairings, just that it's not the purpose of this fic. And don't be too hard on Freddie's little girlfriend. Nobody likes her as it is. Dx


	4. it's all in the charm

**[ iv. it's all in the charm ]**

.

.

I don't think that  
I've ever been so glad  
To be in fourth period.

But something about hanging out  
With annoying Freshmans---  
---"Sophomores"---_  
---Underclassmen_, whatever---  
Suddenly makes  
US History that much more  
Fascinating ( but not really )

Still, it's **definitely **better  
Than seeing little Miss  
What's-her-name---  
---"Paige, Sam. Her name  
Is Paige."---_Paige_, then  
Chatter endlessly  
About something or other  
That I don't give a flying  
Rat's ass about.

"Don't be mean," Carly  
Says, head leaning  
Against my shoulder,  
Hair draping across her  
Face. It only takes  
One moment,  
One hand movement  
To tuck it behind  
One ear.

( _Resist the urge _)

_Being mean is a part  
Of my charm!_  
Carly laughs softly  
And doesn't say anything else.

( And that's just fine )

.

.

.

**A/N:** Late reply liek whoa. Most of this was done a while back, too, so sorry about that. Thank you to all who reviewed, alerted, and/or favorited this. :D


	5. just another day at ridgeway

**[ v. just another day at ridgeway ]**

.

.

Fourth has another  
Lecture  
And it comes with  
Lecture notes that I will  
Copy off of Wendy later---  
---Carly and Freddie,  
On the other hand,  
Have US History  
With Honors which  
Looks good on college  
Applications, or so I  
Heard.

( It doesn't really mean  
Much of anything to  
Me. )

...

We have Independent Study  
( only not really )  
Because  
Miss Reynolds ( Fifth )  
Is out again.

Jury duty, Nate says, but  
That's what they were saying  
Last week when she was out_  
Again_.

( Sorry, but I don't buy it. )

I say kudos to teach  
If she's playing hooky.

It's nice to know that I'm  
Not the only one  
Playing fast and loose  
With the rules around here.

...

Not much to say about  
Sixth other then  
God Fuck Damn  
Is being a T.A. the most  
Boring way to pass an hour

I kind of wish I just ditched  
'Cept Mrs. Maes is  
About-to-burst preggers

( And not that I'd feel guilty  
Or anything. I just  
Don't want to risk it. )

Just in case, you know?

.

.

**A/N:** Did I just spend an entire chapter on the last half of the school schedule? Oh, God. **:P**

I have the vagues of ideas of where the next one is going, but that'll have to wait until I'm not falling asleep.

Hey, do you guys think that the swearing warrants an uppage to the rating? Curious minds inquire!


	6. pity party

**[ vi. pity party ]**

.

.

Poor Carly.  
She still has a crush on Nate.

Feelings that are  
Un-returned,  
Un-requited  
And other words with the  
Prefix "Un-" that  
Mean the same thing  
( _See: synonyms_ )

Who says that I don't  
Know about English?

( Freddie. Freddie does. )

Nate's still with Rebecca---  
---Becky Berkowitz---  
Or at least he's with her**  
AGAIN**  
Or more like**  
FOR NOW**

They're famous in school  
For putting the "repeat" in  
On-and-off-again relationships.

Their re-run drama is just  
Another part of the Ridgeway  
After School Special

For Carly  
Every "off" period is like this  
Breath of Hope.

It's a

"_Maybe, just _**maybe**_  
If I say the right thing, or  
If I smile just right or  
If I---if I---if _**only**."

Instead, each and every  
"On" means another  
Disappointment  
Another, "_No_"  
Just_  
No no no no no_ **no**  
All over again.

( _Round and round we go_ )

I've learned to stand back and  
Watch it unfold.

I can't protect Carly from  
Heartbreak forever.  
She won't let me.

( _Poor me  
Poor her  
Poor us.._. )

.

.

**ahn~** Hmm. This wasn't the installment I was planning on writing, but it's kind of what happened. Our regularly scheduled semblance of a plot will return in the next installment. Technically this is still in the same day and stuff. Or something. Yeah...

Just wanted to make a shoutout to _spinlight_ for being, well, himself and inspiring part of this. Also, much love to for just being crazy awesome. ( It is now published; it is the truth. No point in denying your crazy-awesomeness! )

**edit:** OMG FF dot net! Way for eating words. D:


	7. the third degree

**[ vii. the third degree ]**

.

.

Mrs. Maes holds me  
Hostage  
After the bell  
Rings.

Once-dutiful  
Freshmen,  
Sophomores---  
---Upperclassmen, too---  
Scramble out the door.  
Single-file lines from elementary  
Long abandoned  
Since puberty.

I watch them and  
Fidget.  
I'm not the stay-put type,  
My feet are wandering  
Feet, restlessness is  
Engraved on my bones.

I am the  
Inch worm  
And I  
Make towards the exit

( I always keep my  
Eyes on the  
Exit )

But  
Mrs. Maes gives me a glance like,  
"Nuh-uh.  
No you don't."  
And I am  
Grounded.

She is around  
My height---  
---Probably shorter by  
Like an inch or two---  
But she's got something like_  
Presence_.  
Tells me to go into her office  
And my feet follow  
Despite myself.

Mrs. Maes is  
"Very concerned"  
She says  
And she  
Talks about  
Grades and  
Graduating---  
---Future stuff  
That I don't give a  
Flying Fuck about.

Sounds very much like---  
---Like Carly,  
Like Melanie---  
Like my counselor  
Or like every other adult  
That ever existed ever  
( Except maybe Spencer )  
And I feel my eyes  
Glaze over.

I focus on her make up,  
On the caked on mascara  
And dark eyeshadow,  
Because that's easier  
Than looking at her eyes.  
And I mumble something about  
An iCarly meeting and_  
I really have to go right now_  
And she shakes her head  
And sighs.

"Think about it," she  
Says and I  
( Lie )  
Promise I will  
And  
Bolt out the door.

.

.

**ahn~** Took me a long time to start it and it took me a long time to end it. Sorry about that. I actually have a vague idea of what is going to happen next, and I'll start to work on that. Also, I think there's an arc coming along soon. YAY! ARC!

PS, in between schoolwork and writing and vegging out, I'm betaing _Champagne . Scene_'s original story on Fictionpress (dot) com, _Lightweight_. **:D**


	8. the tattooed man

**[ viii. the tattooed man ]**

.

.

Once upon a  
Time  
My mom had a  
Boyfriend and---  
---Well, that  
Doesn't really explain  
Anything, does it?

Well,  
You see,  
My mom kind has  
Always sort of, kind of had a  
Thing  
For dudes.  
She likes them, and  
They like her, and---  
---Well, why shouldn't they?

She's a foxy lady, my mama.  
And, well,  
Maybe she don't look  
Like she used to.  
Maybe she's crazier than  
She used to be,  
And maybe more fond of bikinis  
Than hygiene, but...

She's always been beautiful.  
And even if that ain't really  
The case nowadays,  
She'll always have a way about her  
That brings 'em calling in droves.

( _Too bad none of them will ever be winners _)

Anyways, my  
Mom had this boyfriend  
( Once upon a time )  
And this one wasn't all that bad  
( For one of her boyfriends )

He would bring toys for  
Melanie and  
Me---  
---Well, more like  
Books and dolls for  
Melanie and  
A brand new GameStation  
For me, but  
You know?  
We liked it.

He was one of the few  
That would take _**all**_ of  
Us out, not just Ma.  
Like a "family" I guess,  
Or some other sentimental  
Bullshit.

He'd take us  
Camping and  
Fishing and just,_  
Out._  
We could climb all over his back  
And he wouldn't even get mad  
Or anything.  
He told Mel she was a sweet girl,  
Encouraged my  
Violence.

Gotta admit, it was kinda nice  
At the time.  
I was, like,  
Six or something---  
---Before I met Carly---  
And...

He stopped visiting one day  
And I never found out why.

.

.

**ahn~** I love Ms. Puckett, you guys, I really, _really_ do. I know that pimping your other stories in a story is kind of tacky, but have you guys checked out _Califorina Dreaming _yet? It's a narrative-in-verse piece I wrote ALL FOR MS. P (ilu!), YOU GUYS. IT WON AN AWARD AND EVERYTHING! So, um, go check it out if you have the time? :'D

Anyways, this installment is dedicated to three people: my mom, her birthday is Jan 31, she raised me as a single mom, and ilh; my auntie, who helped raise me and I could never imagine living without; and the tattooed man. Ah, sorry for taking another "interlude" of sorts. Stay tuned for our next installment, this time with more of the trio and Paige!


	9. sweet as apple pie

**[ ix. sweet as apple pie ]**

.

.

Brad will always be the  
New Guy.

I don't mean that in a bad way  
—He's good people, Brad—  
It's just the way it is.

He's got that... _look  
_This eager-to-please and  
Please-like-me thing on his face. He  
Just wants to help you out,  
Feed you, clothe you, make you happy...

( Total **new guy** thing,  
Just ask anybody )

And, again, so nice that  
I'm pretty sure I'd marry him,  
If, y'know, I were the marryin' type.

( this is the point where  
Freddie chokes on whatever  
he's got in his mouth )

"Thanks, Sam," Brad says,  
Fluttering his long eyelashes.  
"It means a lot, coming from you."

_Whatever_, I say.  
_Hand me more fudge_.  
_Momma loves her some fudge_.

"Anythin' for Momma."  
He says it in the absolute  
WORST  
Southern accent I have ever heard  
( I swear it's a hint of Texan twang  
with a side of Jerseylicious)  
And so I have to laugh.

Then choke.

It'd be priceless if I  
Didn't feel like such a dumbass.

.

.

**ahn~** And she returns! I'm super sorry about disappearing on y'all for over a year. :/

No promises on updates, but I'll try to not take so long with the next installment. Also: AR, Brad is awesome, still no romance, and... Timeline, What Timeline?

edit;  
fixed the formatting. Sorry about neglecting that. D:  
Apparently when you haven't posted something like this in over a year, you forget things. *sobs*


	10. colorcoded for your convenience

**[ x. color-coded for your convenience ]**

.

.

Tuesdays are always  
Better.

Marginally, of course  
But every bit counts  
Towards something.  
I guess.

. . .

Carly hands me a  
Stack of index cards.  
They are color-coded, and  
Written in her neat, pretty handwriting  
That is only just barely girlier  
Than Freddie's overly-careful  
Script.

"Not everyone can write  
As bad as you," he says,

( But I'm pretty sure my  
Chicken-scratch is about twice the  
Man that _he_'ll ever be, so.  
Y'know. )

And I roll my eyes, grinning  
In a way that lets him know  
That he's gonna regret that.

_Well, my darling Freddini_.  
_It's not like just anyone  
__Can be that big of a dorkwad  
_**Either**_, so..._

Freddie closes his eyes,  
Breaths deep.

( Aww, did I hurt widdle Fweddifer's  
Feelings? )

I bow to the imaginary applause,  
But for some reason  
Nobody appreciates the friendlyish  
—But not really—  
Teasing.

Carly sighs, decides to just  
Let it go for now, the  
Whateverthisis that's got  
Freddie's boxers inna bunch.  
"This the outline for  
This week's episode. Let me know  
If you have any changes in mind."

My eyebrow inches towards my  
Hairline.

"Hey! Your opinion is important  
To me, Sam."

Carly sounds somewhere between  
Loving and exasperated. It's a  
Good combination on her.  
Familiar and stuff.

I shrug in response;  
Scripts aren't exactly my  
Sort of thing, to be  
Honest. More of an  
Improv girl myself whereas  
Carly likes to be prepared  
( _and_ kicks improv ass while  
she's at it )

The index cards are her thing, and  
She tries to keep me involved in  
The process, but the more  
Scripted part of the show are  
From the brains of Carly and the  
Dorkiness.

_Okay, whatever._

.

.

**ahn~** I feel like there should be a standing dedication on all of my _iCarly_ and _VicTORious_ stuff. 'Cause, like, if it weren't for all of the encouragement and support from ChampagneScene to yours truly, then I don't think I'd be half as involved in any of these fandoms. xD


	11. close, but not quite

**[ xi. close, but not quite ]**

.

.

"Hey, so..." is how  
Paige decides to begin  
The conversation.

( If it weren't for Carly's hand  
On my shoulder, or Brad's  
Fudge in my mouth... Well. )

Freddie's little girlfriend is smiling  
Nervously. I **wish** it was because  
I am THE Sam Puckett and she  
Knew her place in this Ridgeway High  
Hierarchy of things—  
—Where no one really _rules_

( this is NOT another teen movie )

But where I definitely hold  
Some form of power over her  
Little underclassman ass.

Alas,  
This is not the case.

"Sooo?" Carly asks, drawing  
Out the word-sound in that  
Too-cute and too-  
Precious way of hers.

I have to remind myself that  
Carly doesn't like the Little One any  
More than I do.

That she's just being her  
Normal, friendly self.

"Um, um. Well..."  
She bites her lip.  
It's supposed to be endearing  
Or something.

( this is the point where  
I write something eloquentish  
about how IDGAF, but I **really  
**DGAF  
—so I'll just leave it at that )

"Freddie'sbirthday'scomingup  
And I  
Reallywanttodosomethingforhim."

A beat.

"That's, um, cool;  
What do you have in mind?"

—_Aaaand_, that's my cue to leave.

.

.

**ahn~** fillerfillerfillerfiller


	12. marking the minute

**[ xii. marking the minute ]**

.

.

Miss Reynolds is hung-  
-Over.

That's what I figure  
From the bags  
Under her eyes.

Seen the same look  
On Ma's baby blues often  
Enough to tell the  
Tell-tale signs of it.

She points to the whiteboard  
—Our assignment is  
Written in fading, black  
Dry erase ink;  
The least she can do is the  
Most she is able and  
Willing.

**Open your Lit book to  
****Pg. 428  
****Read  
****Selection and answer  
****Questions.**

Of course,  
I don't have my Lit book  
With me. Hell, I'm  
Not sure it's even  
"Home" or if I used it for  
—Something else. Something that  
Does not involve reading or  
Homework or whatever it is  
A Lit book is used for.

Eh, fuck it.  
All I need is a sheet of  
Binder paper and a  
Good ol' No.2 pencil  
To pass the time.

. . .

Nobody does shit in Miss  
Reynold's class.  
Except for a couple do-  
Gooders, yeah, sure,

But,  
Really.  
Nobody.  
Works here.

Don't buy the open  
Lit books or notebooks or  
Pens/Pencils act. When half  
Of  
Everybody's got a vacant look  
In their eyes and a  
( _whisperwhisper _)  
**U R G E** to not do shit that  
Has anything to do  
Langston Hughes.

. . .

Nate walks in late,  
Goes to his seat with a  
Zombie  
Shuffle.

I'm guessing it's an  
off-week.

.

.

**ahn~** I remember when this fiction originally had a purpose. Yeah, I know.  
As of now, "Sam" is in control of everything—at least, the Sam from _Here Falls the Shadow_ is. P:  
Double posting to make up for horrible last chapter. **[ nods emphatically ]**


End file.
